


A Guy That I'd Kinda Be Into

by Alice321



Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I was too lazy to fix them, I'm not sorry, I'm sorry for the random switches in verb tense, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Owen became an actor, Owen is a Cat Mom™, Seriously this is all fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-07 06:49:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19204114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alice321/pseuds/Alice321
Summary: When Tatiana asked Curt to go see a musical with her, he didn't expect to find his deceased boyfriend playing one of the characters.AU where after Owen falls he doesn't blame Curt, and instead pursues a career in musical theater under the alias of Joey Richter. He also gets a bunch of cats.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DontDiePls28](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontDiePls28/gifts).



> Tatiana and Cynthia are really ooc, sorry. Anyways, I hope you guys like this :)

When Tatiana first discovered Starkid (her little sister told her about it), she watched their musicals obsessively over the next week.

 

She has bragged that she has Trail to Oregon completely memorized far too many times to count.

 

She has badgered and harrassed Curt so many fucking times to watch one of the shows with her.

 

She has a thing for these people called Lauren Lopez and Joey Richter, and they’re all she ever talks about.

 

She wastes all of her paychecks on Starkid merch and then has to ask Curt for money when the rent comes around or she runs out of food in her fridge, and since he’s such a good friend, he always says yes.

 

And she has even dragged Barb down into the deep, dark pit that is the Starkid fandom.

 

That makes his friend’s new craze even worse because now, every time Curt goes out with them they throw Starkid quotes at each other and then start laughing hysterically until they’re rolling on the floor and their faces are purple and that gets really annoying and embarrassing when you’re in public and you’re just trying to have a normal conversation with your friends.

 

Needless to say, this needs to stop.

 

So when Tatiana begins to pester Curt about going to see the new Starkid musical (The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals) with her, Curt quickly formulates a plan.

 

When Tatiana brings up the musical this time, Instead  of answering with an exasperated “I already said no!”, he replies saying “If I go to see this with you, will you stop mentioning Starkid around me?”

 

Tatiana replied with several eager head nods, and that’s why Curt is currently sitting in a theater with Tatiana and Barb on either side of him waiting for a show he never wanted to see in the first place to start.

 

_ ‘It’s ridiculous,’  _ Curt thinks miserably,  _ ‘How excited these two are.’ _

 

Then previously empty seats around them fill up (Tatiana insisted they get there early), far too quickly for Curt’s liking, and soon all they’re waiting for the actors to come on stage.

 

As the performers stepped on stage, Curt does his best to immerse himself in the (mediocre) song they immediately start singing. 

 

Tatiana and Barb seem very excited and keep making these weird girlish squealing sounds whenever someone new says their line, which Curt really doesn’t get because none of these people stand out to him very much.

 

The one girl in the Barista costume  _ does  _ remind him very much of Cynthia. The resemblance is so strong, that he makes a note to ask his boss if she has any sisters who are into musical theater.

 

It’s the weirdest thing though, the white guy with the mustache and the gelled hair’s voice reminds him a lot- like  _ a lot,  _ a lot- of Owen.

 

At first, he chalks it down to the fact that, though it’s hard to tell due to the dim lights, the man looks remarkably like his dead partner. But as the opening number progresses, it becomes harder and harder to ignore, and Curt quickly finds that his eyes are firmly pinned on the Owen look-alike for the rest of the song.

 

He isn’t sure if he’s disappointed or relieved when the man exits the stage as soon as the song ends.

 

The next time the man comes on stage, and the lights are bright enough that Curt can’t hide the man's unquestionable likeness to Owen behind dark lights, Curt’s heart leaps into his throat. 

 

God, he looks and sounds  _ just like him _ . 

 

Curt begins to feel a little dizzy, and he tries to reason with himself- it  _ can’t  _ be Owen because Owen is dead. Curt watched him fall for God’s sake!

 

And besides, Owen had an accent. This guy doesn’t have an accent. Therefore it can’t be him. Maybe a twin brother. Possibly his doppelganger. 

 

Yes, that makes much more sense, especially considering that if Owen really  _ did  _ survive he wouldn’t have become a musical actor, he would’ve rejoined his agency and continue fighting crime with Curt.

 

With this in mind, Curt resolves to ignore Ted’s actor’s likeness to his deceased boyfriend and start actually paying attention to the plot.

  
  
  
  


That is easier said than done, apparently. 

 

It’s just that every time Ted is on stage (Which is a lot) Curt just ends up watching him the entire time even if he’s not doing anything of importance.

 

The more he watches Ted and listens to his voice the more certain Curt is that it’s him.

 

Curt keeps sending skittish glances at Barb to see if she’s noticed but her gaze is always focused intently on whoever is speaking.

 

By the end of the musical, Curt can’t stifle his curiosity anymore. 

 

“Do you know who acted Ted?” He asks Tatiana as they step into his car.

 

“Hm. . . ? I believe his name is Joey Richter, why?” She looked at him with an innocent expression, though Curt could see a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

 

“He was hot.” He deadpans. And well, it’s not really a  _ lie _ .

 

Tatiana laughs, and Curt begins the drive over to the Hotel Room they rented.

  
  
  
  


Despite all the evidence stacked up against the possibility that Owen somehow survived and became a musical actor, Curt can’t stop himself from researching all he can on Joey Richter.

 

It’s a bit hard since he’s not good at things like hacking, but it’s not like Curt can ask Barb for help. She’d think he was crazy.

 

Somehow, Curt manages to find a shady agency who say they’re willing to do the research on him if he pays them well enough.

 

Curt knows very well that he could lose his job if anyone caught him doing business with a company like this.

 

And that’s exactly why no one will find out.

  
  
  
  


The alleyway Curt finds himself in is dirty and smells like garbage and cigarettes and a scrawny cat tries in vain to smooth down its fur from atop a  dumpster.

 

Curt is suddenly glad he’s wearing that very ugly outfit his mother sent him instead of one of his good ones. Even so, his skin itches and he really can’t wait for this whole transaction to be over.

 

Curt looks down at his watch impatiently. 

 

A representative from the agency was supposed to be here precisely seven minutes ago.

 

Curt sighs and shifts his weight nervously. He doesn’t like this.

 

Just when Curt is considering leaving, a sketchy looking man peers into the alleyway with beady brown eyes. He’s wearing a long dirty trench coat, that trails on the ground around his feet. 

 

He grins, putting his crooked, yellow teeth on full display, and speaks with a heavy New York accent. “You must be Curt Meg-”

 

“Shush!” Curt hisses, glancing around nervously. It’s the middle of the night, so thankfully no one is around.

 

The stranger grins. “Ahh, Okay, Okay.” He says, his southern accent shining through and reaches into a worn messenger bag, pulling out a thick stack of files, and holding them out.

 

Curt grabs the file and holds it protectively to his chest.

 

The stranger laughs. “There you go, mate. All the information we have on one, Joey Richter.” He speaks with a heavy Scottish accent, and extends his hand, making grabby motions.

 

Curt scoffs and pulls out his wallet, handing the man a hefty stack of 100 dollar bills.

 

The man smiles widely. “Pleasure doing business with you.” He tips his hat, his thick Russian accent making it hard to tell what he was saying, then turns and shuffles out of the alleyway, looking side to side nervously.

 

Curt smooths down his coat and tries not to feel too disgruntled as he tucks the file safely under his arm and walks to his rented car that he parked a few blocks away from the meeting spot.

  
  
  
  


The first few pages are full of very typical information that Curt already gathered from his initial search. 

 

As he reads further into the file, however, Curt finally gets to the good stuff.

 

The good stuff being, the confirmation that Joey Richter is, in fact, Owen Carvour’s alias.

  
  
  
  


Now, knowing what he knows, Curt is compelled to watch all the other Starkid shows that Joey- Owen stars in.

 

For research of course. 

 

After the shock and betrayal wore off, Curt was left wondering. What about acting made Owen want to fake his death leave his friends, leave MI6, leave his country- leave Curt.

 

Thus, Curt watches all of the musicals, movies, and TV shows that Owen has ever played a role in.

 

He watches them obsessively, over and over again. 

 

It’s undeniable that Owen is talented, but Curt still can’t see why Owen would give up his entire life to be an underpaid musical actor working for underrated musical producers.

 

He decides to consult his Joey Richter files again.

  
  
  
  


Curt stands in front of the door to Owen’s new apartment, his hand raised hesitantly in the air, prepared to knock but never daring to.

 

He’s been standing like this for at least ten minutes.

 

Curt takes a deep breath. 

 

He’s spent week staking out in front of Owen’s apartment- not to be creepy, just to make sure that it really is his house and that his address is correct.

 

He has Owen’s new schedule memorized. 

 

Currently, Owen is most likely sitting on his couch either on his phone or watching TV. 

 

He never has anything to do on Tuesdays, making it the perfect day to confront his old friend.

 

It’s now or never.

 

Curt takes a deep breath, squeezes his eyes tightly and knocks loudly on the door, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach and the almost painful beating of his heart, like it might burst out of his chest.

 

A moment later, the door opens, and there stands Owen, clad in a plain grey T-shirt and plaid pajama pants. He’s not looking at Curt.

 

“Lauren, you said you were gonna be here at three, it’s not even lunch ti-” Owen’s eyes become comically wide when he realizes that it is not Lauren Lopez who is standing at his door.

 

“I think we have some things to talk about,” Curt says, silently congratulating himself on how relaxed and normal he sounds. “Can I come in?”

  
  
  
  


Owen has a nice apartment.

 

Very modern looking.

 

He also has four cats.

 

One of them is a fat orange tabby who is incredibly vocal and, according to his name tag, is called Marshmallow.

 

Another one, who took an immediate liking to Curt and he isn’t quite sure why, is called Mochi and is pure white.

 

There’s a slim Siamese called Bugette (Curt is proud of himself for getting that reference) who keeps leering at Curt from across the room.

 

And finally a tiny, fluffy, Persian kitten with white fur and blue eyes who is named Elizabeth the 3rd. 

 

Curt has never known Owen to be particularly fond of cats, but he supposes there are a lot of things he didn’t know about Owen.

 

Mochi noses as Curt’s hand persistently, while Marshmallow settles onto Owen’s lap. Elizabeth 3rd is in the process of climbing Owen’s arm and doesn’t seem to notice Curt’s presence. Bugette is crouching on the arm of the chair Owen has seated himself in. She keeps throwing smug looks at Curt whenever Owen raises his hand to pet her as if bragging that she was chosen over Curt.

 

Curt decides he doesn’t like this cat.

 

“How did you find me?” Owen asks after a moment of tense silence. His accent is coming through and Curt wants to cry.

 

“I saw you’re new musical with some friends. You didn’t really think you could hide from me forever did you?” Curt asks. He tries not to let his hurt show. Mochi is now standing on her hind legs, pushing her face into Curt’s chin.

 

Owen’s frown tightens. He plucks Elizabeth 3rd off of his sleeve and settles her into the tight space in between his abdomen and Marshmallow’s sleeping body. Bugette seems to be trying to calculate how to fit herself onto her owner’s lap without disturbing the other cats.

 

“Well I certainly tried, didn’t I?” Owen chuckles humourlessly. His false smile drops and he sighs. “What do you want?”

 

“I want to know why you left! Why didn’t you come back? Or at least tell me you survived! I- I thought you were dead for all these years and all that time you were living it up as a fucking musical actor!”

 

Owen sighs again. “I had my reasons, okay?” He crosses his arms. 

 

Mochi has given up trying to get Curt’s attention and is wandering into the kitchen most likely on a quest for food.

 

“What reasons!?” Curt asks, exasperated. 

 

Owen stares at the ceiling as if praying for mercy. Elizabeth 3rd is walking on top of Marshmallow, and he is making his discontent with the disturbance very clear. Meanwhile, Bugette has managed to squeeze herself into the spot where Elizabeth once was, causing Marshmallow to start slipping. 

 

Owen winces, presumably as Marshmallow digs his claws into his thigh. He puts Elizabeth 3rd onto his shoulder and cradles Bugette in his arms, while Marshmallow makes himself comfortable again. A minute later Mochi returns and leaps gracefully up onto the arm of Owen’s chair.

 

“Think about it, Curt! Very soon there won’t be a need for secret agents like us. Computers are taking over everything! And then what will they do once they don’t need spies anymore? They won’t just let us walk around in the open! We know important government secrets, they can’t risk that information getting out.”

 

Owen deposits Bugette onto the other arm of his chair, she flicks her tail but doesn’t try to climb into his lap again.

 

“They’d just kill us. I don’t want to die like that! I had to start over. . .” Owen looks away.

 

“So you faked your death? You- you made me live with the guilt of thinking I had killed you all those years!?”

 

“Trust me, I didn’t plan anything that happened but. . . I’m glad it did. Curt, I’m so much happier now! I have a life now! I have fans, friends, a blossoming career in musical theater- I have a  _ life  _ now, and that’s more than you or anyone else at your agency can say!” Owen’s voice had taken on a defensive tone.

 

Bugette, seeming to blame her owner’s distress on Curt, glared even harder at him.

 

“So you have no regrets? You don’t even care that you left me all alone?”

 

“I didn’t say that! It was hard at first, but I’ve achieved more than I ever could as a secret agent.” Owen’s face softened. “I  _ did  _ miss you, you know. I thought about you every day.”

 

Curt feels anger flare up within him. “Why didn’t you tell me! I would have understood!”

 

“I couldn’t risk it! If MI6 finds out, I’ll be killed.”

 

Curt grabs a throw pillow off the couch and screams into it. It’s not like he doesn’t understand why Owen did what he did, he’s just so angry at everything.

 

When he’s done, he looks up and sees Owen watching him carefully. “You okay?”

 

“No.” Curt says petulantly.

 

Owen considers him for a moment, before grabbing a pen and pencil off of the coffee table and scribbling something down on it. He hands the slip to Curt. His handwriting seems a little neater than before. It looks pretty.

 

“There’s my number. Call me if you want to talk. . . start over, maybe?” He looks so hopeful, that Curt can’t even bring himself to feel angry. He nods silently and takes his leave, gripping the slip of paper in his hand tightly. 

  
  
  
  


Curt really didn’t mean to take Owen up on his offer.

 

But after watching Starship for the 37th time in a row, he just couldn’t help himself.

 

They agreed to meet at a Starbucks at 3 to talk.

 

When Curt arrived, Owen was already there and was sipping tea at a table in the corner. He looked up when Curt entered the shop. When Curt met his gaze, however, he turned his head away.

 

Curt ordered an iced coffee, then made his way over to Owen’s table. He seated himself across from his ex-partner and stared at his hands.

 

The silence stretched on for a long time. Like, at least 15 minutes of awkward coughs and silent staring contests.

 

Finally, Curt got tired of it so he cleared his throat and said, “Soooo. . . cats?” He was grasping at straws, but it seemed to work because Owen immediately perked up.

 

“You want to hear about my cats?” He asked. His eyes had lit up and he had  ~~the cutest smile on his face~~ .

 

“Sure.” Curt tried not to sound too amused at his reaction.

 

“Marshmallow was my first one. I got him after I played Ron in Very Potter Sequel. I was gonna name him Ron since he’s orange and I play Ron, but Lauren said that was dumb so I went with Marshmallow since he’s chubby.”

 

Curt thinks that “chubby” is an understatement, but he doesn’t comment on it.

 

“I got Bugette when she was a kitten, and I named her that, well, one to honor Lauren, and two because she immediately took a liking to me, like the musical Bugette liked Bug. I just thought it fit.” He shrugged.

 

“I don’t think Bugette liked me very much.”

 

“She doesn’t like most people very much, love,” Owen assured him, and oh Curt forgot about that pet name. “I got Mochi from a shelter that was gonna close down. They were going to have to euthanize all the animals that weren’t bought so I took in a few and gave them away, but I kept Mochi for myself because she’s just so sweet.”

 

And then I got my Elly just two months ago when I had to drive my friend, who doesn’t have a car, to a pet store. I saw her and I knew I had to get her.” 

 

“I didn’t know you liked cats.”

 

“I’ve always liked cats. MI6 wouldn’t let me own an animal since if I grew too attached to it someone could use it to blackmail me into spilling agency secrets.”

 

Curt scoffed. “That’s stupid.”

 

“Yeah.” Owen agreed.

 

They stayed silent for a moment, and then Curt just couldn’t hold the question in anymore. “Do you ever miss it?”

 

“Spying?”

 

Curt nodded.

 

“Oh, all the time. But. . . I’m happy like this.” Owen sounded so sincere, that Curt couldn’t even bring himself to argue.

 

If Owen was truly happy as an actor then, well, who is Curt to tell him to stop?

 

For the next two hows, conversation between them flowed freely. They talked about everything, Owen’s career, their friends, funny stories, dumb people on the internet, and at one point Curt asked Owen why he chose the name Joey Richter to be his alias. Owen just laughed and winked. 

 

Owen has to leave at 5 for a thing with his friends (apparently he has a lot of them now), but before he can go, Curt whips out a notepad and pen. “If you could sign this for me please, my friend, Tatiana, would love it so much.”

 

Owen grins and scribbles his signature onto the paper. “There you go, love.” He says, punctuating the sentence with a wink. 

 

Curt rolls his eyes and takes the notebook back. He pauses and says hesitantly. “Oh, can I ask you something before you leave?”

 

Owen cocks his head. “Hm?”

 

“Are you uh seeing anyone right now?” He asks, twisting his fingers together nervously. 

 

Owen laughs. “God, no. Ciao.” he waves and saunters out of the coffee shop.

 

He’s not sure why he asked, but he’s suddenly very glad he did.

 

Curt stares down at the autograph and lets a giddy laugh escape his mouth.

 

He hugs the paper to his chest.

  
  
  
  


“YOU GOT JOEY RICHTER’S SIGNATURE WHAT THE FUCK!?” Curt doesn’t think he’s ever heard Tatiana’s voice go higher than it did when he handed her a piece of notebook paper with Joey Richter’s signature on it.

 

“So you like it?” Curt asked sarcastically.

 

“Like it?  _ Like it _ ? Curt this is literally the best present I’ve ever received from anyone ever oh my god.”

 

“Great.”

 

“How did you get this in the first place!?” Tatiana asked, inspecting the signature for signs of forgery.

 

“Funny story actually, you see Joey is actually my dead partner, Owen. I think I told you about him once?”

 

“Nice joke. How did you  _ really  _ get this, huh?”

 

“Not a joke.”

 

Tatiana squints at him for a minute. “You’re not kidding, are you?”

 

“Nope. Wanna see our texts?”

 

“. . . Yes please.”

  
  
  
  


Tatiana took the big news surprisingly well.

  
  
  
  


Curt was once again sitting Owen’s apartment with Mochi begging for pets on his lap. 

 

This time, however, Tatiana was with him and she appeared to be in a state of shock.

 

When they first arrived, Owen had hugged her and she has been staring off into space with a dreamy look in her eyes ever since.

 

Owen sat uncomfortably in the same chair he sat in during Curt’s last visit. Marshmallow is not in his lap this time, and instead, is snoozing in a cat bed in the corner of the room. Elizabeth 3rd is playing with a ball of yarn and Bugette is curled comfortably up in Owen’s lap.

 

“So you’re friends with Lauren Lopez, right?” Tatiana asks, finally out of her daze.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Do you think you could introduce us?”

 

Owen laughs. “We’ll see.”

 

Tatiana looks as if she’s about to combust on the spot. “So, uh you’re Curt’s ex? He’s told me about you before,” Tatiana leans forwards conversationally. “How did you two meet?” 

 

She has a mischievous twinkle in her eyes that Curt decides he doesn’t like at all. 

 

“MI6 sent me to retrieve some top secret files at the same time that he was sent to get the same thing.” Owen looks wistful as he recounts their first encounter. “We got into this huge gunfight.” Owen grinned, and something about his smile made Curt’s stomach flutter. “God, we  _ hated  _ each other at first.”

 

“Really?” Tatiana pursed her lips. Mochi had abandoned Curt and was making her way towards Tati. “You guys seem like you have such good chemistry.”

 

“Oh, we do, love.” Owen laughs. He has a nice laugh. “I’ve never been in a gunfight with as much sexual tension as that one.”

 

Tatiana looks over at Curt with a raised eyebrow. Curt nods and shrugs, because there’s no point in lying. 

 

Mochi climbs into Tatiana’s lap, and crouches there, looking unsure. Tatiana croons and begins stroking her back. Mochi seems to melt into her touch.

 

“That sounds a bit like how Curt met  _ me _ . Minus the sexual tension,” Tatiana says.

 

Owen’s eyes light up. “Do tell.” 

 

“We were both sent to steal a bomb from this Nazi guy. When we appeared he got away, but Curt snagged the bomb and we fought over it for a bit. I won, of course. He had this awful beard too. . .”

 

“He had a beard?” Owen perked up, sounding endlessly amused. 

 

“Yup. It was super bushy and gross. Didn’t suit his face at all.”

 

Owen snickers. “Do you have a picture?”

 

“Unfortunately not. Just imagine his face except with roadkill glued onto his chin.”

 

Curt puts his face into his hands. He wants to die.

  
  
  
  


Owen and Tatiana soon prove to be an inseparable team who take immense pleasure in torturing Curt.

  
  
  
  


“So you guys fought a Nazi?” Owen looks bemused. Tatiana left a few minutes ago, so now they’re just chilling in Owen’s apartment.

 

“Yeah. .”

 

“What was he like?”

 

“Honestly? He was kind of an idiot.”

 

Owen barks out a laugh. “Why did he want a bomb?”

 

“To blackmail a prince I think.”

 

“Where is he now?”

 

“Dead.”

 

“What happened?” Owen raised an eyebrow.

 

“I went to this Casino to find Tatiana and get the bomb back. We talked for a bit, then she knocked me out and the Nazi tied me to a chair and sang a song about how Nazi’s aren’t so bad.”

 

“Weird.”

 

“Yeah, it was pretty surreal. Then he hired this guy to torture me and that was not fun at all. . . “

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine now. It was years ago. Tatiana saved me and we managed to kill the Nazi and get the bomb to Cynthia.”

 

“Oh, Cynthia. How is she these days?”

 

“Her? Just as bitchy as ever. . .”

 

Owen scoffs. “Don’t be mean to Cynthia! It’s not  _ her _ fault you can’t do your job right.”

 

“Um, says the one who faked his death to avoid doing his job.”

 

“Don’t deny, I was the better spy.”

 

“I liked you better when you were dead.” Curt rolls his eyes and shoves Owen’s shoulder.

 

Owen laughs. “Jerk.”

  
  
  
  


“Hey, Curt?”

 

Curt looks at Tatiana. “Yeah?” 

 

“Do you think Owen could get me free Starkid merch?”

 

“Ask him.”

 

“But what if he thinks I’m annoying?” Tatiana whines.

 

Curt sends her a flat look. “He won’t. He probably likes you better than me.”

 

“Really?” Tatiana perks up, like a dog who’s been offered a treat.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Tatiana beams. “ _ Yes _ !”

 

“In case you’re getting any ideas, he’s gay.”

 

Tatiana rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I figured.”

  
  
  
  


Owen is a really good actor. Like, really.

 

It probably has something to do with the fact that when he was a Secret agent he played a lot of different people, but Curt just can’t get over how talented he is.

 

Sundays are officially Curt’s _ Binge Watch Owen’s Musicals day _ now, and he just can’t get over how amazing Owen is.

 

He relays this information to Tatiana, and they spend three hours fangirling over Owen.

  
  


  
  
  
  


It’s been a few months since Curt became friends with Owen again, and things are going great.

 

Mostly.

 

See, there’s just one issue. 

 

It’s kind of hard to be best friends with your ex-boyfriend again when you wake up one day and realize that you don’t want him to be your  _ ex- _ boyfriend anymore.

 

A mix of spending every spare second with him, watching his musicals way too often, and texting him 24-7 have made feelings Curt thought he had gotten over resurface, and his crush was probably twenty times worse than it was when Owen disappeared from his life.

 

I suppose absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

  
  
  
  


His crush is becoming a serious problem.

 

Whenever he’s around Owen he starts blushing and his heart starts pounding and he always forgets what he wanted to say because he’s too busy staring at Owen.

 

Part of him wants to consult Tatiana, but since she’s friends with Owen too now, he doesn’t want to risk her letting it slip on accident or something (not that Tatiana isn’t trustworthy, he just doesn’t want to risk it).

 

Barb has been too busy as of late to talk about something as childish a crush.

 

Mom freaks out whenever he mentions crushes to her, so he’s long since given up trying to talk to her about those types of things. 

 

So, here he is.

 

“Curt.” Cynthia greets him coldly as he enters the room. “What do you want, I’m busy.”

 

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

 

Cynthia raises an eyebrow skeptically. “You have 60 seconds, go.”

 

Curt quickly takes a seat in the chair on the other side of Cynthia’s desk. “So you’re married right?”

 

Cynthia narrows her eyes. “Yes.”

 

“And you’re happy, right?”

 

“I was, until approximately  49 seconds ago when you walked in.”

 

“Great, great. . .” Curt stared at his feet, thinking about how to phrase his question. “Do you think you could give me advice on how to uh ask someone out?”

 

Cynthia raises an eyebrow. “Ooh have you got a crush?”

 

Curt glares at her. “Don’t make it weird.”

 

Cynthia snorts. “Yeah, okay. How much do you like this boy?”

 

“Uhm a lot.”

 

“Are you two close?”

 

“I think?”

 

“Is there a chance he likes you back?”

 

“Maybe?”

 

Cynthia crosses her arms. “Times up, goodbye.”

 

“Wha- but! You didn’t. . .” Curt trails off uncertainly.

 

Cynthia sighs. She puts down her cigarette and leans forward. “Listen here, you maggot. I am far too busy to sit here and talk you through your baby problems. If you ask the guy out and he says yes, good for you. If he says no, I’ll hunt him down and strangle him with my bare hands, okay?” 

 

Curt laughs at the thought of Cynthia ever even considering hurting Owen.

 

“What are you laughing at?” Cynthia snaps.

 

“Er- nothing!”

 

“Get out of my office.” Cynthia makes shooing motions at him. “Leave.”

 

“Okay, okay.” Curt leaves the office, not quite feeling relieved, but definitely more calm than before.

  
  
  
  


With the assistance of the internet, Curt has mentally constructed the perfect, most romantic way to ask Owen to be his boyfriend. He has a list of steps set firmly in his mind, and he is certain by the end of the week he and Owen will be  _ a thing _ .

 

**Step one: Ask Owen to go to the local amusement park with him.**

 

“Hey, Owen,” Curt starts. “Do you want to go to the local amusement park with me on Saturday?” He asks one day when they’re watching TV in Curt’s apartment.

 

“Uh sure, why?”

 

“I wanted to go with someone, but Tati and Barb are busy”

 

“ ‘Kay.” Owen turns his attention back to the television. 

 

**Step one: Complete.**

 

**Step two: Impress him with your Nice Car when you pick him up on Saturday.**

 

Owen climbs into the passenger seat. “Is this a new car? It’s nice,” he comments.

 

**Step two: Complete.**

 

**Step three: Once you get there, buy food for him.**

 

“Hey, I’m gonna go grab something from the food stands,” Owen said, nudging Curt’s shoulder to get his attention.

 

“Ah! Wait, wait, let me pay!” 

 

“Really?” Owen raises an eyebrow.

 

“Yeah, I insist.”

 

Owen looks unsure for a moment. “Uh, I guess you can if you really want to.”

 

**Step three: Complete.**

 

**Step four: Win him a prize.**

 

Owen scrunched up his nose. “All of these prizes are so tacky.”

 

“Really?” Curt looked at him, surprised. “I think that one is pretty cute.” He nods toward a giant stuffed Teddy Bear.

 

“It’s bright pink, love,” Owen scowled. “Maybe if it was a different color.”

 

**Step four: Canceled.**

 

**Step five: Take him on the Ferris Wheel**

 

“We should get going soon,” Owen said, glancing around. The sun was beginning to set, and most people were leaving.

 

“Ah! Wait, do you want to get on the Ferris Wheel before we leave?”

 

“I guess.” Owen shrugged.

 

Curt hesitated for a moment, before grabbing Owen’s hand and pulling him toward the Ferris Wheel. He tried not to pay attention to how nice Owen’s hand felt in his.

 

**Step five: Complete.**

 

**Step six: Kiss him.**

 

The ride was mostly silent until they got to the top.

 

“You know, when I was a kid I always thought these things were boring, but the view’s actually pretty good,” Owen commented.

 

Curt nodded silently, staring out over the park. His heart pounded painfully in his chest. He looked over at Owen, who was already watching him, thoughtfully.

 

Curt leaned forward a little bit. He watched Owen’s expression carefully, searching for any signs of discomfort. His face was kept carefully blank, but Curt could detect the blush rising on his cheeks.

 

It’s now or never.

 

Curt took a deep breath, closed his eyes and leaned forward, and pressed his lips against Owen’s.

 

He waited for Owen to shout and jerk away, to push him off and scream at him.

 

He didn’t. 

 

In fact, he did the exact opposite. He kissed back.

 

Owen pulled away far too soon for Curt’s liking. But he didn’t voice his complaints. The ride had started going back down.

 

“So are we. . . ?” Owen trailed off, looking unsure.

 

“I mean if you want to.”

 

Owen nodded slowly. “Okay. . . Okay.” He nodded.

 

“So we’re. . . ?”

 

Owen nodded. “Yeah. We are.”

 

“Oh. Cool.”

 

“Yup.”

 

They watched each other awkwardly for a few seconds but were startled out of their weird staring contest when their cart returned to the ground and they were ushered out. 

 

They silently began walking toward the parking lot. Curt turned and studied Owen’s face. He really had such nice features.

 

Curt reached over and grabbed Owen’s hand, knitting their fingers together. 

 

He had a good feeling that this time, he and Owen would stay together for a very long time.

 

**Step six: Complete.**

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OwO!!??

“So Brian, Corey and I were thinking of making a musical about you and me called Spies are Forever.”

 

“Spies are Forever?” Curt raises an eyebrow. “What’s it about?”

 

“Well, it’s just an idea but we were thinking of setting it in the sixties and after you left me in that building instead of becoming an actor, I join this group called Chimera and plot your demise.”

 

“Oh, fun. It seems like a good idea, go for it.”

 

“Really? It’s not dumb?”

 

“Nah.” 

 

“Okay. I’ll tell the guys,” Owen stands up, off the couch and stretches. Curt doesn’t even try to hide his ogling at his husband's midriff as his shirt rides up.  

 

Owen tsks at him and puts his arms down. “Creep.”

 

Curt flips him off and stands up too. “Shut up.” he looks down when he feels something brush against his leg. Mochi stares up at him and meows loudly.

 

Curt rolls his eyes and leans down, scooping her up in his arms. Mochi wiggles around in his arms, she hates being picked up. Curt sets her down on the couch, She glares at him for a moment, then promptly begins smoothing down the ruffled fur on her chest.

 

“Why are you so mean to her.” Owen huffs, stroking the fur on her back. 

 

“I’m not. This is how I show affection.” Curt shrugs. 

 

“Uh-huh.” Owen doesn’t look convinced.

  
  
  
  


“I was thinking, Owen.”

 

“Congratulations.”

 

“Shut it, I’m being serious.”

 

Owen glances up from his phone, raising an eyebrow. “What is it?”

 

“I think we should move out of the apartment. Look for a real house, you know?”

 

Owen purses his lips. “Why? I mean, I’m not against it, but the apartment has suited us just fine for this long. Wouldn’t a house be a bit big for just the two of us and five cats (a little bit into their relationship they adopted another cat named Taffy)?”

 

“Ah, well. . . That’s just it. I was thinking- hoping that we could maybe look into adopting a kid? Or getting a surrogate mother or something. . .” Curt looked nervously up at Owen, who’s eyes had gone comically wide.

 

“You- you- you want to- to get. . . kids. . . ?”

 

“Well no, I want to get a  _ kid _ . Singular, not plural. Maybe plural in the future. But- but it’s up to you, of course!” Curt watched Owen’s face nervously.

 

“I uh- Getting a kid is uh that’s a lot of responsibility.”

 

“Yeah, I know,” Curt looks away. “I’m sorry for bringing it up-”

 

“No! No, I’m not  _ against  _ it, I just think we should talk about it more. It’s not just something you can decide to do spontaneously.”

 

“I know! I just thought it's something we could talk about. I’ve never really considered myself to be much of a family man but, I . . . I want to have a family with you.”

 

Owen covered Curt’s hand with his own. “I want to have a family with you too,” he said softly, staring into his eyes. 

 

Curt smiled hesitantly. “So we’ll look into getting a house?”

 

“Yup.”

  
  
  
  


“I don’t know, I thought the blue house was pretty cute.”

 

“Yeah but the neighborhood was kind of sketchy, don’t you think? And it was kind of tiny.”

 

“I suppose you’re right, love. And the backyard was pretty small. If we’re going to have a yard, I want it to be a nice one. And a pool would be nice, too.”

 

“The big white one had a pool.”

 

“Yeah, but it was in awful condition. And the exterior was so white trashy, y’know?”

 

“True. Well, the yellow house was nice. It isn’t too far from here either.”

 

“Didn’t the owner say no pets?” Owen glanced anxiously down at Marshmallow, who was lounging in his lap. Marshmallow was getting very old, and he had growing health problems. The vets don’t think he has very long to live, and Owen was determined to make sure his cat was as comfortable as possible.

 

“I think he did. A no go on that one, then.”

 

“Should we get a one story?  Do you think marshmallow would have trouble climbing stairs?” Owen stroked his cat anxiously.

 

“He’ll be fine,” Curt assured his husband. “The beige one seems to meet all of our criteria.”

 

“It didn’t have a pool, though.” Owen pointed out.

 

“Is the pool really necessary?” Curt raised an eyebrow.

 

Owen sighed. “I guess not.” He slumped his shoulders.

 

“It’s settled then?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Fabulous.”

  
  
  
  


“So for the show, Spies are Forever, we managed to find actors who look and sound just like you, Tatiana and Barb. For the Nazi, we’re gonna use Brian. It’s ironic, y’know? Lauren is casted as Cynthia, obviously and we added a new character called DMA who’s played by Joe Walker. I’m playing myself, and a few other people.”

 

“Oh cool.”

 

“Yeah. It’s weird, ‘cause the guy who’s playing you is named Curt Mega too.”

 

“Weird.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Oh yeah, and the guy who owns the house we wanted got back to me.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“What did he say?” 

 

“I dunno. He said his daughter is a fan of mine.”

 

“Do you think he’ll sell it to us?”

 

“I think so.”

 

“Great.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“. . . Curt?”

 

“Yeah?

 

“Do you think, once we move in, we could install a pool?”

 

Curt sighs loudly. “I guess.”

 

“Yes!”

  
  
  
  


Curt isn’t sure which was worse.

 

Getting the boxes  _ into  _ the house, or unpacking them.

 

Moving boxes into the house is physically taxing, but unpacking is  _ so boring. _

 

Owen, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying himself. He likes cleaning and organizing much more than Curt does. Plus he’s making Curt do all the heavy lifting soo. . .

 

“That’s it, love, right over there.”

 

Curt grunts in response and shuffles toward the designated spot for the TV stand, pushing the piece of furniture into place.

 

“You’re doing great honey! You can put the telly on top of it now, dear.” Owen called from his spot on the couch, which Curt had moved just a few minutes ago.

 

Curt shot him a glare but set the TV onto its stand without argument. “Would it kill you to do some of the work?” He asks when he’s done, putting his hands on his hips ~~sassily~~.

 

“Yes,” Owen says flatly. “We talked about this, babe, I’ll handle organizing everything and putting away the small things, while you handle the heavy stuff. God, knows you need the workout.”

 

“Okay, well one, not true I am incredibly fit.”

 

“That you are.” Owen rakes his eyes up and down Curt’s body.

 

“Hey-! Are you using British slang to make fun of me again?” Curt crosses his arms.

 

“No, quite the opposite, in fact.”

 

“Right. Anyway, I agreed to that when I was under the assumption that you would help with bringing in the boxes.”

 

“Hmm, well, nothing we can do about it now. Hurry it up now, Love, I’m getting tired and I want to finish the living room before I go to bed.”

 

“Jerk.” Curt huffs.

 

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” Owen drawls sarcastically, his gaze glued to his phone screen. “Say, would you be a dear and move that side table over to the couch?”

  
  
  
  


“Ooh, so this is your new house? It looks great” Tatiana glanced around the room.

 

“Yeah. Curt did most of the work though.” Owen nodded.

 

“Really? Good for him.”

 

“Yeah. He complained a lot, though.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I dunno. He’s on his man period I think.”

 

Tatiana snorts. “He’s always on his man period, what are you talking about?”

 

“True. . .”

 

“Can you guys please stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Curt crossed his arms.

 

“Oh, Curt! Didn’t see you there!” Tatiana exclaimed turning to look at her friend.

 

Owen laughs into his fist.

 

“I hate you both. Why do I hang out with you guys?”

 

“Aww, you love us.” Tatiana crooned.

 

“I’m not so sure about that, love. He loves  _ me.  _ You’re just kind of there.” Owen said.

 

“Aw.” Curt leaned in and pecked Owen. “You’re adorable.” 

 

“I know.” Owen wrapped himself in Curt’s arms and shot a smug look at Tatiana.  

 

Curt was reminded, very suddenly, of Bugette (the cat), and he thinks he now knows why Owen likes her so much.

 

Tatiana glares at them playfully and takes a seat on the couch. “Come on, are we gonna marathon Parks and Rec or what?”

  
  
  
  


“Oh my God, what the fuck, you were great out there, I’m so proud of you oh my God that was amazing, good job!!” Curt tackled Owen almost immediately after he appeared in the crowded hallway.

 

Owen stumbled backward. Before he could get a word out, Curt smashed their lips together bc he gayyagsdh

 

Owen gasped when Curt pulled away. A slow grin spread on his face. “So I’m guessing you enjoyed it, love?”

 

“Enjoyed it?  _ Enjoyed  _ it!? I swear to God, Owen every time I see you on stage I get a little bit gayer.”

 

Owen snorted. He pulled out of the bone-crushing hug, but still opted to hold Curt’s hand. “You’re ridiculous. Oh, where is Sergio, our three-year-old son we that adopted a year ago, I didn’t notice him in the crowd?”

 

“I got Cynthia to babysit.”

 

“Oh boy. Is he gonna be alright?”

 

“Don’t worry. He’s your son too, so she dotes on him as much as she dotes on you. Maybe a little bit more. Anyways, I figured there would be some mature themes and I didn’t want to confuse him.”

 

“Good call.”

 

“I know. Let’s go home, yeah?”

 

Owen grinned. “Yeah.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me!?? Write a lazy ending? Pfft never.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! If you have any criticism please leave a comment, and I will do my best to fix it!!


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